Gifts
by eruthiel
Summary: Twelve verses, twelve days, twelve gifts and twelve miniature chapters of uninterupted fluffy goodness. On hiatus. Sorry!
1. Introduction

**This is just the introduction. Don't let it put you off! =3**

* * *

There was someone very important to her. This was the vital thing. The only question that bothered the vampire formerly known as Maladicta was: "Does _she_ know that?"

Vampires, in their own special way, do have romance in their souls. They are not known for their excessive coyness (largely because they don't have any) and if a vampire has a thing for you, you can be sure of knowing about it, on oh so many levels. But Polly had never been a romantic person, and four years in the army hadn't helped a lot. This bothered Maladict. Although she would never admit it, even to herself, the vampire couldn't bear to see her little girl growing up – what had become of the wild, expensive romantic gestures that had characterised the last thirty years of her life as a free vampire? As the undead became more acceptable, did they become less thrilling, too?

The hell they did.

Corporal Maladict poured herself another cup of coffee and planned.


	2. A Partridge in a Pear Tree

"Thanks, Paul," Maladict muttered.

"My pleasure," the young man beamed. "I'm just so happy to have Polly home for Hogswatch, that's all."

"Yeah, yeah, just like we said," the vampire replied, before pressing a finger to her lips and pointing at the bedroom door, behind which Sergeant Polly Perks was still asleep. You have to get up pretty early in the morning to get up earlier in the morning than her. Time to spring!

"_On the first day of Hogswatch, my true love sent to meeee!!_" Maladict hollered, bursting through the door and sitting down heavily on the bed. Or, to put it more accurately, on Polly's leg.

"Wh- what the hells, Mal?" she grunted, sitting up, then gasped as she saw the painting. It was so real you could feel the breeze in the branches. "You did this?"

"Sure. And tomorrow I'm off to invent the time machine and sculpt a lady with no arms. It was Paul, you twat. I just bought the paints and stuff." _Mostly out of your salary, _she added mentally, but didn't say so out loud because there is nothing that can ruin an early-morning hug like money trouble.


	3. Two Turtledoves

Taking no chances, Polly sat straight up in bed as soon as she woke up. There were no avenging vampires bearing gifts. This seemed awfully suspicious. "Mal?"

"Come on, breakfast time," called a voice from the kitchen. Polly shrugged and got up. It was only then that she noticed the things on her bedroom floor. They were green and white and moving very slowly.

"Ha ha ha," Polly said, placing the things carefully on the table in front of Maladict. Betty squealed. "Who made these for you? Igorina?"

Maladict raised an eyebrow. "Very useful, turtledoves. They fly and they only eat lettuce. I don't know why you're being so ungrateful."

"Ri-ight . . ."

After breakfast, Polly put them out back with the water butts. "I wonder if we've got any spare lettuce," she said to herself.


	4. Three Quirmian Hens

"You still haven't found it, Oz- Polly?" said Betty, shyly. She'd been strangely awkward around Polly since their lives had taken such different turns. "Maladicta said it was really obvious today."

"Hmmmph." They were up to their elbows in soapy water. _Someone_ had to do the washing up, and Maladict had refused on the basis that 'I am a vampire; ve don't do ze 'w' vord' before retiring with a pile of coffee beans and some string. "I don't want to find the silly hens anyway," said Polly, scrubbing a fork somewhat harder than necessary. "Knowing Mal, they'll be dead or something. Or still eggs."

Ideally, Betty should have dropped a plate with an impressive crash. As it was, the ladle splashed into the sink with a 'plop' of soapy bubbles.

"Oh, sugar! Polly, I . . . I think we've eaten the hens! I found three eggs in the kitchen and… oh . . ."

There was an explosion of laughter from upstairs.


	5. Quite a Few Calling Birds

Observe two sets of feet walking side by side. See how they follow a path away from the large inn and into the green-grey forest. Note how they walk in step along the track, in and out of long shadows cast by the sun as it crawls over the frozen horizon.

See a pair of hands interlocked, forming a pattern of unnaturally pale and delicate next to tanned and rougher fingers. Two sets of eyes stare around the clearing as their owners slowly come to a halt. Two sets of ears caught in a cascade of noise – overlapping nonsense, a mess of twittering and screeching when closely inspected that becomes music too intricate and extraordinary to follow as soon as you forget to think about it.

Hands squeeze tighter. Among the whirlwind of harmonies, her breath mists in cold air and forms the words: "_Four thousand calling birds_."


	6. Five Goldish Rings

"_On the fifth day of Hogswatch, my true love sent to meeee . . . five gold-ish rings_! One for each of you dainty fingers, my child." Maladict patted her on the head.

They were very shiny brass indeed. "Mal. Where did you get these from?"

Grinning, the vampire pointed to each ring in turn. "That one was a present about twenty years ago from an old friend. I'm sure it's got a little gold in it somewhere. That one and that one are made of the buckles off my own shoes," she explained, a look of great self-sacrifice on her face. "And these two came off some very expensive toys indeed."

"I see. Would these toys happen to be slightly abominable in the eyes of certain out-of-date religious campaigners?"

"My dear, there is no slightly about it. I do, in fact, have the actual items in my suitcase upstairs. Perhaps you would care to-"

One look said it all. "I'll take that as a maybe, then?"


End file.
